Whosoever Loveth & Maketh A Lie
by Svelte Rose
Summary: Standing before her, she knew without a doubt he was most definitely real. A living, breathing, thinking being. Tom Riddle. Dark Wizard. All she had to do was put the fang through the cup.


**Author**: Svelte Rose

**Rating: **PG

**Title**: Whosoever Loveth and Maketh A Lie

**Characters**: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Jr.

**Warnings**: Nice!Tom

**Date**: February 6th, 2010

**Prompt**: 30. Realization

**Summary: ** Standing before her, she knew without a doubt he was most definitely real. A living, breathing, _thinking _being. Tom Riddle. Dark Wizard. All she had to do was put the fang through the cup.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own HP. JKR does.

xxxxx

Being on the run for the nine months had taught her quite a few things. Tolerance being one of them. Living with two, sloppy boys who were high-maintenance to boot (read: Ron) she had a new appreciation for her resolve.

Surveying the unconscious form of Ronald Weasley and then looking at the _very_ corporeal form of Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr., she wondered if she should at least make sure the spell Voldemort's Horcrux threw at Ron hadn't done any permanent damage.

But the words coming out of the Horcrux's mouth kept her stiff and she knew that the only reason he hadn't killed her yet was because she held his life in one hand, and his demise in the other. Literally.

"I'm surprised." Suddenly, his voice was oddly quiet. Tom cocked his head to the side, hands behind his back. He was dressed in a pressed vest, slim tie tucked in, and fitting trousers. With his good looks and smooth voice, there was no semblance between him at twenty years and the reptilian look-alike he would become.

"What?" Call it the feline in her but she was curious.

"Have you ever wondered why you're here?" His arms waved, motioning to the wide-expanse of space. "Why you're involved in this war? Why you've even had to make the difficult choices that you did?"

_He couldn't be talking about her parents, could he?_ "Everyone's involved in this war whether they like it or not." It was an obvious answer.

"Do you want to be?" He asked.

She shrugged and looked over at Ron, "For Harry, yes. Also, for myself." She added the last part as an afterthought. The war _was_ about him exterminating all Muggle-borns. "I'm not _unhappy_ with the choices I made. They were for the best."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Choices _you _made?"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at the obvious change in intonation. "What do you mean?"

"First year, a troll somehow finds its way into Hogwarts. You'll remember that it took everything a group of grown, capable wizards and witches with a bevy of Dark magic at their side, to even enter this structure. Yet, a troll, with no lucid thoughts beyond that of the most basic needs was able to do so. Even almost killed a student - _you_."

"But didn't Professor Quirrell let the troll into Hogwarts?"

He gave her an arched eyebrow for that one. "He was practically a squib. Don't you think he received a bit of assistance? How could he have moved the troll past the wards without a bit of help?

She was taken back. _That was true. How __**had**__ the troll gotten into Hogwarts? _

"Yet it would be event which acted as a catalyst for the formation of Hogwarts Golden Trio," his lips quirked up in a smirk, "what a coincidence it all worked out?"

"I'll warrant you have a valid point but it might have been just a strange coincidence. It was frightening but it worked out for the better."

He tutted, shaking his head in beat. "Coincidences don't occur in this castle, Miss Granger." Then he continued on. "Second year, you were petrified instead of being killed instantly, as are basilisk stares want to do to Muggles. Myrtle was unfortunate enough to be one of its first -," he cast a sympathetic look upon the rotting carcass, " - and last victim."

Hermione opened her mouth, mentions of her compact mirror at the ready.

Tom waved his hand flippantly. "Don't give me that rubbish. A basilisk's stare is not so easily thwarted. I was surprised you didn't suffocate under all the enchantments he placed you under. There were even precautions taken for your red-haired friend." He peered at Ron's unconscious body. "Clearwater was thrown in to make things less suspicious."

"But the mirror," she persisted.

He continued on, ignoring her completely. "In your third year, you were able to attain a Time-Turner so that you could take more classes than time allowed." His laugh was humorless. "You realize that even the Unspeakables guarding the remaining few in this world couldn't even touch them?"

"I was careful enough." Her look was obstinate.

"But you were barely fourteen."

She chewed on her bottom lip. _Without the Time-Turner, they wouldn't have been able to save Buckbeak or Sirius._

"Exactly." He had a satisfied look about him.

_She forgot he was a practiced Legilimens._

"Fourth year, _he _didn't need to do anything. As an attractive - ," his eyes flashed and she shifted uncomfortably when his gaze fell upon her, " - budding, young witch, powerful in your own right, Karkaroff's puppet needed no machinations to feel attraction for you. There would have been others but that's a story for another time."

Hermione blushed and shifted again, careful not to touch the edge of the fang. "Why would Viktor matter into any of this?"

Impatience colored his green eyes, "because Imperio'ing someone that strong-willed is never easy. We needed Viktor because of the three champions, he was the strongest and most capable of doing harm to Potter compared to the other two."

_What about Cedric?_

"That boy was _too_ strong-willed, too confident. Truly a wizard of his own accord. He would have never been made a pawn for either side – light or dark. That's probably why he ended up in Hufflepuff."

Hermione winced. She really hated that he could read her thoughts so easily. She wished she'd put aside time to learn Occulumens.

"That doddering old fool needed someone from _his_ camp to keep a close eye just in case Krum ever became a true threat."

Hermione jerked her head, a curl coming loose from her haphazard ponytail she'd thrown it up in. She brushed one particularly annoying strand behind her ear. Frightened, though curious, she knew she shouldn't listen but couldn't help it. Besides, she had thought she was killing an inanimate item. She didn't think she'd have to stare at his corporeal form.

Then again, she was killing a _soul_ which didn't sound all that better.

It really would have been much easier without the Horcrux's actual form staring at her in the face.

Tom's eyes followed the action closely before they snapped back to her. "In Fifth Year, how did you get your hands on the books necessary to train a group of pre-pubescent vigilante students in order to fight a war?"

"Professor McGonagall gave me a pass to the Restricted Section," she explained very clearly.

Tom laughed, the deep sounds punctuated by the acoustics of the chamber. "There are no such things as passes. It's called _Restricted_ for a reason. In all your time in that room, have you ever seen another student in there?"

_Come to think of it, no. _Hermione frowned, troubled.

"What about finding the Room of Requirements? Why did it open so easily for you?"

"_You_ got in. You know the answer to that," she pointed out with a jab of her finger.

"Yes," Tom nodded in agreement, "I did. But I had to force my way in. None of that contrived 'think and walk' game you discovered."

She knew her mouth was open quite unattractively right now, having taken to gaping at him.

"After I got in, Albus originally warded it to prevent any future...merrymaking. At least until Potter came along."

"But what about Draco -," she began.

"Albus was severely weakened and thus, any magic he wove."

Hermione persisted. "But how did he even know you were in there? Surely if he did -," she began again.

"Then he would have known about the diadem? No. He knew a lot of things but he wasn't _all_ knowing. Something was amiss but he was no in shape to take me on, having come fresh from a fight with Grindelwald." He arched an eyebrow at her and she was beginning to feel very much like the naive young girl he was treating her to be. "Sixth year -,"

"Why are you doing this?" Her voice was impossibly quiet.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked forward and knelt down in front of her, fingers gently cupping her chin. "You weren't listening, were you?"

A muscle in Hermione's jaw ticked.

"I've been watching this school. Watching the students. Watching _you_."

Her breath hitched in her throat.

"I probably know you better than you know yourself." His gaze was hooded. "Which is why I also know that you're still going to put that fang through my Horcrux no matter what I say."

She wanted to look away, _look at Ron_, but she couldn't. His eyes were impossibly green. Even greener than Harry's.

"I don't care for your kind -,"

_Then what was the point of even talking to her?_

" - but I admire the potential you_ do _have."

Hermione's eyes widened as her breath came out in faster, shorter puffs. Even if the man before her was only a fragment of the original, he was still very much Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, hater of all things Muggle and their like.

She was Muggle-born. _Is_ Muggle-born.

_Why was he so bloody confusing? Why even tell her that the last seven years of her life had been the intricate workings of a man she respected, even loved, and was now dead?_

"Did you ever wonder why you received your letter when you were almost twelve as opposed to the others who received theirs around their eleventh year? Or why you were sorted into Gryffindor even though you were _clearly _meant for Ravenclaw?"

His touch was burning hot and she found her mouth distinctly too dry to answer.

"Even Slytherin would have been better suited to your nature."

With the exception of that last part, she _had_ wondered about all that but never gave it much thought beyond that.

Tom tutted, lips dangerously close to hers.

Hermione wasn't at all entranced. Yanking her chin away, she shot him a mutinous look. "Why would Dumbledore work so hard to make sure I was at Harry's side?"

At this, he let out another bark of laughter. "Do you honestly believe that James and Lily Potter's brat would have gotten through these last six years alive if it weren't for you?"

She should be flattered by his words but she was more incensed he had the gall to mock one of her best friends. "Harry is a powerful wizard in his own right -,"

He cut her off again (she was beginning to get _real_ annoyed about that) and amusement flickered in his eyes, "he can be quite the wizard, yes. But only because of you."

By this point, she had run out of arguments. She really was too tired to argue anymore.

He sighed and sat down in front of her, stretching his long legs out. One of them brushed up against her incidentally. She wasn't so sure it was a mistake. The next time he looked up at her, her breath caught in her throat. There was a series of emotions in their depths that made him look...different.

She didn't want to even consider the meaning or the possibilities they promised.

"I know there's nothing I can do or say to stop you. Merlin knows once you've got your mind set on it, nothing else matters." He shrugged, "but I tried." He flashed his off-putting and much too brilliant grin at her.

Hermione grimaced and looked down. She had to do this. She knew she had to do this and _quick._ Before she got pulled in like all the others. He had an uncanny ability to worm his way into people's hearts even if they knew _of him_.

_Stop it. You know what you have to do._ She closed her eyes and bit her cheek. Pushing all protesting thoughts out of her mind, her hand swung and stabbed the basilisk tooth into the cup.

There was a pained grunt and even though she shouldn't have, she looked up anyway.

Tom Riddle leaned forward, a crimson droplet at the corner of his mouth. He reached out and brushed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand. "Unfortunate heritage aside, I would've liked to know you better. They didn't make witches like you in my day."

Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as she choked back a sob. It was horrific. She could see the venom visibly eating away at his form as it destroyed the Horcrux contained within the cup.

"Hermione?" His voice was weak.

"Yes?" She answered in a wobbly voice. She wasn't without a heart. Her vision blurred the outlines of his handsome, aristocratic face as tears pooled.

"Take it from someone who knows, someone who has also dealt with the same machinations, the same roadblocks in life, all caused by the same wizard everyone else _loved_ and _respected_," his voice sounded angry but resigned.

Tears coursed freely down her cheeks as the cup turned completely black and his parting words were only a whisper echoing through the chamber walls.

"_It's __**your**__ life._"

The cup rolled out of her hands and onto the floor with loud clang.


End file.
